Happy Birthday to Me!
by DangerMouse
Summary: Someone is pulling pranks at Hogwarts, but the twin swear it isn't them. Mild O/P


A/N: Special thanks to Teague for beta-reading!

Happy Birthday to Me!

By: DangerMouse

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"Ron! Wake up!" 

Ron rolled over in bed, blinking the sleep away from his eyes to see Harry hovering over him, the light from the large window in their room pouring across his eyes. He could hear Neville snoring away from his own bed. 

"Huh?" he began intelligently. "What time izzit?" 

"Almost six-thirty," Harry replied softly, standing back up, smoothing his pajamas. "We have to work on our essays, remember?" 

"Yeah, Ronnie," chirped Seamus from somewhere across the room. "Wakey, wakey!" 

"Shut up, Seamus," Ron groaned before throwing off his covers and sliding out of bed. He stretched, then scratched his pajama-clad stomach. Reaching under the bed, he grabbed the bathrobe he'd stuffed under their the day before, shaking it a few times to get out the dust. 

"You could hang that up," Dean said from where he was sitting at his desk, not looking up from the parchment he was busily writing across, trying to finish his Transfiguration essay. 

"Shut up, Dean," Ron told him pointedly, feeling irritated at being awake at such a god-awful time in the morning. 

Harry walked up behind the redhead and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We should hit the showers," he told him, his own bathrobe draped over his arm. "It'll wake us up." 

Ron nodded, grabbing his shower things. The two roommates walked out of the dorm, hurrying their way to the boy's showers, leaving Neville's snoring far behind. Ron yawned. 

"I can't believe Professor McGonagall assigned us that essay the day before a Quidditch match," he groused, running a hand through his messy hair. "Did she really think any of us would get it done?" 

"That's only because someone charmed her wand to turn everything into Fig Newtons," Harry pointed out. Ron let out a growl. 

"I know it was Fred and George!" he snapped, angry. "Did you see the way they were laughing at lunch? Honestly!" 

"They said they didn't do it," Harry reminded him. Ron shook his head in frustration. 

"And you believe them?" Ron asked him. Harry shrugged. 

"I guess not, but they usually take credit for pranks, right?" 

"Whatever," Ron replied, pushing open the door to the shower. The two boys stopped dead at the sight before them. 

"Um..." Harry began. 

Seven pairs of feminine eyes looked up at their entrance, attached to bodies in various states of undress. There was a great stillness. Ron felt his face turning as red as his hair. 

"Um..." Harry repeated. 

Then, the shrieking began. 

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Hermione shouted, wrapping a towel around her body and throwing a bottle of shampoo at the boys' heads. 

"Us?" Harry yelled back. "You're in the BOYS' shower!" 

"No we're not!" Ginny cried, throwing her conditioner at him. All the girls were yelling and screaming, throwing various items and insults at the boys. 

"Do you see a urinal?" Pavarati bellowed. Harry had the presence of mind to look around and take in the pink bathroom accessories and the distinct lack of male-specific plumbing. He grabbed Ron's still stunned form, dragging him backwards out of the bathroom, away from the approaching scantily clad mob of very angry girls. 

The door slammed shut as they stumbled back into the hallway, Harry taking in deep breaths to try to calm his racing heart. Ron still looked shocked, his mouth hanging open in an amazingly good impression of a fish out of water. Harry gasped a few more times before turning to his silent friend. 

"What the HELL was that?" he finally made out. Ron said nothing, still staring at the door in disbelief. Harry walked up to the door, running his hands along the plaque that quite clearly said "Boys' Showers." 

"What's all this ruckus?" Both boys whipped around at the voice, seeing a stern looking Percy standing a little ways away from them in the hallway, hands on his hips, gazing down at them over his glasses. 

Both boys jumped in, talking rapidly, trying to explain what happened. Percy held up his hands to still them. 

"One at a time, please," he snapped. "Now, Harry, what happened?" 

"We were going to take a shower," Harry began hurriedly," but when we walked through the door, it was the Girls' Shower, not the Boys'!" 

"Oh, honestly," Percy said with a roll of his eyes. "It's much too early in the morning for me to be dealing with your stories." 

"It's not a story!" Ron protested. Percy shook his head and walked up to the entrance of the shower, pushing open the door. "Don't go in there!" Ron yelled. Percy ignored him and walked in anyway. 

"See?" said the older boy, holding open the door so they could see. The room was dark, but very obviously the boys' showers, not to mention empty. "Now," Percy continued, ignoring the dumfounded looks on the boys' faces, "take your showers and either head to your rooms or the Great Hall. There's no loitering around in the hallways." That said, Percy pushed past them back up the stairs, presumably back to his own dorm room. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, then fled back to their room. 

* * * * * * 

There was a general mix of contention, embarrassment, and humor at the Gryffindor table during breakfast that morning. Most of the girls were shooting withering glances at Harry and Ron. The latter had their heads buried in their food, trying to keep their blushing faces hidden as best as they could. At the same time, many of the boys were feeling quite impressed with their supposed stunt. 

"We didn't do it on purpose," Harry said pleadingly at Hermione's angry humph directed in their direction. "I swear, we walked into through the door to the boys' bathroom and it led us into yours." 

"Oh,yes, and it just so happens that the two of you are the only ones to fall victim to this?" Hermione said scathingly, arms crossed over her chest. 

"Bloody wonderful idea, Ron!" cheered George from where he and Fred were sitting nearby. "Though we would have..." 

"... left the hex in longer so we wouldn't get singled out," finished the twin. Ron glared at his brothers. 

"I know you two did this," he said moodily. "As soon as I figure out how, you'll get yours, I swear." 

"But we didn't... 

"... do it!" 

"Yeah, just like you didn't mess with Professor McGonagall's wand?" Ron said, his voice rising in volume in his outrage. 

"We didn't!" Fred and George yelled together. At their outburst, Percy stood up from where he was sitting near the head of the table. 

"Quiet down, please!" he said firmly. "This is breakfast, not a quidditch match." The twins grumbled something impolite, but lowered their voices. 

Percy returned to his seat, nodding in satisfaction. Oliver looked at him from across the table. 

"Not a quidditch match?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"It was the first thing I could think of," the Head Boy replied easily, then went back to eating his breakfast, ignoring Oliver's amused chuckling. 

Suddenly, the air filled with the flapping of dozens of wings and the sounds of high pitched shrieks, the morning owl-post arriving with its usual flourish. Oliver glanced up out of habit, not really expecting anything. Letters started fluttering down to the eagerly out-stretched hands of the Hogwarts students, messages from home almost always happily received. Oliver's eyes widened slightly as an old, worn-out owl wearily flew through the air, straggling behind all the others, a heavy package clasped in his talons. 

"Uh, Percy?" Oliver began. "I think someone from your family is getting a parcel." Percy blinked at Oliver over the top of his glasses, then glanced up. Errol, the Weasley Family owl, hovered weakly over the table for a few seconds before dropping out of the air like a stone. With a startled yelp, Percy jumped up from his seat, reaching out to the center of the table, effortlessly catching the ancient bird in his arms. Breathing a sigh of relief, the redhead collapsed back in his chair, cradling the owl and the package like a baby. Oliver clapped. 

"Very impressive," he said, giving him an approving smile. "Maybe you should try out for the Quidditch Team." 

"I hardly have the time for that," Percy replied, giving Oliver a little smile of his own, obviously getting a great deal of satisfaction from his catch and Oliver's compliment. Resting the exhausted owl on his lap, Percy set the package on the table, carefully removing the string tied around it and sliding the paper away, folding it up neatly. The smile on Percy's face grew a little bigger and he reached into the box and removed a neatly folded sweater. 

"It's not Christmas yet, is it?" Oliver asked, leaning over the table to get a better look. Percy unfolded the garment and held it up across his chest for Oliver's inspection. The sweater was a warm butter-yellow in color, though no "P" was stitched on the front like in years' past. While the Christmas sweaters sometimes looked rushed, with a few mistakes here and there, one sleeve occasionally longer than the other, this one looked flawless, like it could have been bought right off a high-end store rack. The details around the collar and cuffs showed a lot of effort and skill. 

"Early birthday present from Mum, apparently," Percy explained. Without warning, Oliver reached across the table, running a hand along the front of sweater, feeling the soft yarn slide across his skin. 

"Gods, Percy, it's gorgeous," Oliver said in awe. "You're mum is really talented." Percy didn't reply, looking down at Oliver's hand still resting on his chest, a slight blush rising in his cheeks. Oliver, suddenly realizing what he was doing, pulled his hand back, feeling his own face redden. 

"So, ah, what are you going to do next week for your birthday, then?" he asked hurriedly, picking up his fork and leaning over his breakfast, poking at his sausages. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Percy carefully folding his present and gingerly putting it back in the box, every movement precise and elegant. 

"Oh, I've got a few things planned out, though nothing set in stone," Percy said, trying to meet Oliver's eyes. When the Keeper looked up, he was met with a small smile. "I do need to practice some of my advanced Charms work." 

"Sounds like fun," Oliver replied dryly. 

"It should be," Percy said, suddenly looking a bit sly. "It really should be." 

Oliver blinked. 

* * * * * * 

"Now, the Teleaudicus potion is usually used in conjunction with a number of other potions which the lot of you are too stupid to even comprehend, so I will not discuss them here. For now, let's just see if your simple minds can grasp this small part of the whole before moving on to greater things." Professor Snape paused in his lecture, turning away from the board to scowl at his students, who were busily whispering amongst themselves. "Is there something you'd like to share with me?" he snapped. 

"Sir..." began a timid Hufflepuff, raising her hand. "Sir, we can't take any notes." Snape narrowed his eyes. 

"I know your level of incompetence is astounding, but even _you_ should be able to write something down," he said harshly, watching in pleasure as the girl shrank back in her chair. 

"She means none of us can take notes, Sir," piped up Lee Jordan, meeting Snape's eyes with ease. "Our scrolls won't take any ink." 

"What are you blathering about?" growled the Potions Master, striding over to Lee's table, snatching the quill out of his hands. Dipping it into the ink well with a flourish, he quickly scratched a few words across the scroll on Lee's desk, frowning when the ink disappeared into the paper. Drawing out his wand, Snape tapped the scroll, muttering a few softly spoken ancient words. The paper glowed pink. Snape's expression grew dark.. 

He spun around, fixing a glare on the twins, who were sitting on opposite sides of the room for sanity's sake. "Well, since your classmates seem to have taken it upon themselves to spoil the lesson for everyone else, you can all spend the evening writing a fifteen foot essay on Teleaudicus potions. Oh," he added, almost as an afterthought, "forty points from Gryffindor and you two have detention with me tomorrow." The twins looked aghast, shocked by the number of angry eyes directed at them. 

"But we didn't do it!" Fred protested. 

"Sixty points for lying," Snape sneered, then walked back to the front of the room and continued his lesson. 

* * * * * * 

"I don't believe this!" George cried as he and his brother made their way to the Great Hall for dinner, Lee Jordan on their heels. "I mean, of all the times to get into trouble..." 

"... especially for something we didn't do!" finished Fred. 

"You guys sure you didn't do it?" Lee asked them, taking a step back as two angry redheads spun on him, their eyes blazing. 

"Of course..." 

"... we didn't! We would never play a prank..." 

"... that would get everybody in trouble like that!" 

Lee frowned, considering. "Well, it looks like somebody might be moving in on your territory," he offered as they resumed their journey to dinner. The twins didn't reply. 

The Great Hall was crowded and noisy. The twins tried to ignore the angry glances being shot their way as they made walked over to their usual seats. Before they could sit down, Percy stood up, raising his hands to quiet the Gryffindor table and get their attention. Surprisingly, it worked. 

"Everyone, can I have your attention, please?" he began, all eyes turning towards him. "Recently, there have been a rash of pranks being played throughout the Gryffindor House, from reo- location bender spells on the Boys' Shower door, to the charming of the fifth-year's scroll paper to ink-sponge paper, and lastly, someone changing out the candles in the Divination classroom to give off… shall we say… foul scents." The twins looked over at their younger brother and his friends and took in their freshly washed hair and clean clothes. "I ask that the perpetrator or perpetrators of theses acts cease and desist immediately before someone gets hurt. Thank you." Percy retook his seat. 

"Pompous little…" 

"…weasel. He was looking at us…" 

"…the whole time," groused the twins, then simultaneously sat down in their usual chairs. 

What followed was a large cracking sound, a pair of identical screams of surprise, and a tangle of limbs and red-hair as the twins' chairs broke underneath them, sending them crashing to the ground. Rather than looked concerned, many of their housemates were laughing. Ron stood and walked around the table, looking down at his brothers. 

"Serves you right," he told them with a smirk. "Imagine, putting dung candles in the divination classroom!" Ron wrinkled his nose at the memory. 

"But we didn't…" began George loudly, but Fred put a hand on his shoulder to still him. 

"They won't believe us and it isn't worth it," he whispered. "We'll just have to be on our best behavior for the next couple of weeks until this all blows over." George nodded in agreement. 

Down at the end of the table, Percy smiled. 

* * * * * * * * 

As the week wore on, so did the pranks. Herbicide in the watering cans, tricked out brooms that only flew sideways, hexed food that jumped off your plate when you touched it with a fork and ran screaming out of the Great Hall, suits of armor put in compromising positions – on one day, Professor McGonagall returned to her room and found all of her furniture stuck to the ceiling! The twins had detentions coming out of their ears, though they always proclaimed their innocence. 

Oliver stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room, a small brown package in his hands. He stopped mid-step, blinking in surprise at the state of the room, then cleared his throat. 

"Lose something, Ron?" he asked the agitated younger boy, who, with the help of his two best friends and his roommates, was currently taking apart the common room. Couch cushions were tossed into the corners, chairs were moved out of their normal places, and the tables were all tipped sideways. Ron looked over at Oliver from where he was digging through a pile of pillows. 

"Have you seen my book-bag, Oliver?" he asked. "I had it down here this evening, but after we came back from dinner, it was gone!" Oliver shook his head. 

"Sorry. I've been out on the Pitch all night," he said. Ron nodded, still grumbling, and went to help Hermione move another one of the couches away from the wall. "I'm sure it'll turn up," Oliver added as he made his way over to the stairs leading up to the boys' dorms. "Just make sure you put the room back in order before you go to bed tonight." Ron made a little hand waving motion in response and Oliver chuckled, walking up the stairs. 

It was relatively dark in the room he shared with Percy when Oliver opened the door, the only light coming from a small heat-free lantern sitting on the redhead's bed. Percy himself was also on the bed, hunched over something, humming a little song to himself. He looked up as Oliver walked into the room. 

"Evening, Ol," Percy said easily, smiling at his roommate. "How went the practice?" 

"Very well, thank you," Oliver replied. "It's so odd that my broom was the only one of the lot not to get hexed." 

"Yes," Percy agreed, "very odd." 

Oliver walked over to Percy's bed, sitting down in front of his roommate, placing the brown package he'd brought in between them. He opened his mouth to say something about it, but paused, looking at what Percy had been so intent on when he'd first walked in. 

"Isn't that Ron's book-bag?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Percy looked down at the grungy canvas carrier in his lap, over which he was casually waving his wand. "He's looking for that, you know." 

"Is he?" Percy asked innocently, then quietly began to mumble a soft Latin phrase under his breath, the book-bag glowing a pale pink. 

Oliver watched the wand movement, his eyes growing wide. "You're cursing it!" he sputtered, shocked. "You've been the one pulling all these pranks the whole time!" 

Percy gave a small half-smile, looking down at the glowing bag over the top of his glasses. "Yes," he replied, saying all that needed to be said. 

"Why?" Oliver asked. 

"It's my birthday tomorrow," came the reply. "My brothers never remember, so I thought I'd give myself a present." Oliver leaned back a little, impressed with his roommate. 

"You're wicked," Oliver told him. 

"I am," Percy conceded, giving Oliver a rather sly look. He looked down at the brown paper package sitting between them. "What's that?" 

Oliver sat up again and picked up the package, looking a little awkward. "Well, I got it for your birthday, but I don't know if you'll like it or not… so…" Percy dropped his wand and Ron's book- bag to the floor, then took the package out of Oliver's shaking hands. 

"Whatever it is, I'll love it," Percy promised him, smiling warmly. Oliver flushed and looked down, picking at the bedspread. In typical Percy fashion, the redhead carefully slid the brown paper off of the wrapped box, folding it neatly so it could be used once again. Without hesitation, Percy opened the plain white box and gasped. 

"Oliver! It's wonderful" he exclaimed, lifting the present out and holding it closer to the lamp. It was a gorgeous crystal inkwell and quill set, the silver stopper of the delicate container glinting in the lantern light. The quill itself was long and sleek, the feather a light shade of tan with gold flecks scattered throughout. 

"Its eagle feather," Oliver said hurriedly, by way of explanation, feeling a little embarrassed by Percy's obvious delight. "It's good for scroll and charm writing. I know Charms is one of your favorite classes, so I thought you might like it, so I---" 

"It's perfect, Oliver, thank you," Percy said, gently cutting him off and placing a hand on his arm. "I love it." Oliver flushed an even deeper shade of red in response, casting his eyes around the room to find something to talk about that would slow his rapidly beating heart. 

"Uh..." he began, then lighted on Ron's book-bag, still on the floor. "Oh! What charm were you putting on that?" he asked quickly. Percy grinned, carefully putting Oliver's present aside and retrieving the bag. 

"It's a charm that makes it impossible to remove things," he replied. "Sort of my last hurrah in the field of pranking." 

"At least for another year, right?" asked Oliver, raising a suggestive eyebrow. 

Percy laughed. "At least," he said, pushing his glasses back up from where they'd slipped down his nose, then giving Oliver a mischievous look. "Care to help me?" 

"I'd love to," Oliver replied, reaching out a hand to squeeze Percy's shoulder. The two seventh years laughed together, then quickly got to work. 

~The End~ 

  
  


A/N 2: Thanks for reading! Feedback is a girl's bestfriend!


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